Protocol
by srmharrold
Summary: Deeks comes back from an undercover op. Densi.


Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.

Protocol

He parked the car outside his apartment and sighed, letting his head fall back against the seat as his eyes fluttered shut. Home. Finally. Exhaustion settled so firmly in his bones that it was hard to convince himself to get out of the car. He locked it, mentally trying to lock away the alias that had consumed him for the past four months. At least the operation had gone well, if not three times longer than originally expected. He'd have to remember to pay his neighbor really well when he picks up Monty tomorrow. There weren't many people who would be willing to look after a mangy mutt for an undisclosed amount of time. But that could wait until after he had a good night's sleep and a long, long shower.

The first thing he saw when he opened the door to his apartment was a furry face and wagging tail. Monty didn't bark – he wasn't a loud dog – but he jumped straight up to give his long lost master a big sloppy kiss. Deeks returned the overenthusiastic greeting, hugging the dog while trying to close his door behind him. "Now how did you get here?" he murmured. "You were supposed to be at Lucy's while I was gone."

Deeks peeled off his coat and walked into the living room. Someone was there. He drew the gun from the waistband of his jeans and silently approached the couch. The intruder slept curled up, taking up an impossibly small amount of space. It was too dark to make out any details. He flicked on the light.

The intruder immediately turned, sitting up and shaking her long dark hair out of her face as the business end of her gun pointed directly at him. Kensi. He should have known. He laughed and lowered his gun. "You scared me there, Princess."

She didn't lower her weapon. Something was off. He frowned. Her eyes were huge; her mouth slightly open, as if she weren't fully awake and she was having a nightmare. Then he saw the tear tracks on her face. She had cried herself to sleep.

"Kensi what's wrong?" He wanted to step toward her, but she still had a loaded gun in her hand. Distraught or not, she still knew how to use a weapon.

"Wha-" her voice cracked. She tried again. "What are you doing here?"

Deeks raised an eyebrow, shooting her a lopsided grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I kinda live here, remember? Me? Deeks? Your partner? The guy who owns the couch you're sleeping on? What are _you_ doing here?" He tried to step forward but she adjusted her grip on her gun and he decided it was in his best interest to stay put. "Kensi what is going on?"

"You can't be here," she whispered.

He didn't follow her logic. "Why?"

"Because," she said as her eyes filled with tears, "you're dead."

He stared at her in shock. "I am?" He looked down at himself, just to make sure. "Well nobody told _me_ that." He poked himself in the arm to demonstrate his existence. "I'm pretty sure I'm not dead. Who told you that?"

Kensi finally lowered the gun. "I called LAPD a week ago. You died while undercover."

"Well that would be pretty inconvenient, since they need my testimony to put away the guy we arrested today."

Kensi stood and took a couple tentative steps towards him. "Are you a ghost?" She looked so lost, standing there hugging herself, torn between two truths.

"How am I supposed to know? I still have to use doors the old fashioned way, so I guess I'm pretty real." He held out a hand. "Kensi, I don't know who told you I died, but they were wrong. I'm right here. I'm real." He scrambled for a way to reassure her. "Remember when we met? We were both undercover in that gym, and you managed to singlehandedly screw up my entire operation. Remember the first time we sparred at ops? You had me pinned in under three seconds. I still don't know how you did that. And how on every operation I give you a new nickname? And I _know_ you secretly love them all."

"Do not." She eyed his outstretched hand, as if it might burn her. He waited as she inched closer, finally reached out her own hand to brush her fingers against his, warm and reassuring.

She launched herself at him, throwing him slightly off balance as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and buried her face in his neck with a muffled sob. He held her just as tight, rocking her as she cried into his shoulder. "Shhh. It's okay, Kens. It's okay."

"I thought you were _dead_. I thought you were dead and all I could think about was how we were always so mean to you. As if you didn't mean anything to us. But you _do_ Deeks. You do mean something to us. You mean everything."

"I know Princess." He ran his hands soothingly over her back. In his dreams, this moment had gone a bit differently. For starters, he wasn't presumed dead. "But I'm back, and I'm alive, and everything is going to be okay. You don't have to cry over me anymore."

Kensi pulled back to shoot him an indignant look, although she didn't let go of him. "I wasn't crying over you. I was crying because I thought I'd have to take in that ancient dog of yours."

Deeks grinned. "That's my girl. It's okay. I know you missed me."

She returned her face to his shoulder, breathing deeply. "This isn't your usual cologne."

For some reason, that sentence made him absurdly pleased. "Nope. This is my alias John Baker's cologne. How did you know?"

She sighed. "I've been here for the past week." She let him go. He thrust his hands in his pockets to avoid pulling her back. Then he grinned.

"Is that my shirt?"

She crossed her arms defensively. "No."

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure that you're wearing my favorite blue v-neck."

She stared at him determinedly. "This is mine. Yours is probably in your closet. Why would I wear your shirt?"

"Good question. A better one is why you would buy a men's shirt three sizes too big."

"It's comfortable."

"I know that. It's my shirt."

She refused to respond. Instead, she sat back down on the couch, patting Monty absently. The momentary humor faded. She picked up her impromptu pillow and laid it across her lap, gently smoothing the fabric. The sweatshirt read 'LAPD' – one of his. She really thought he was dead. And it really upset her.

"I'm going to go change."

"I should go –"

"Will you stay?" He cut her off. "We can talk."

"You must be exhausted. There's no need for me to stay now that you can take care of Monty. I'll just –"

"I need you here. And I think you need to be here too."

She looked down at the sweatshirt in her hands and nodded. Deeks slipped into his bedroom, grabbing the first shirt he saw and a pair of sweats. He went to the bathroom to wash his face, trying to rub some of the fatigue out of his skin. His body cried for sleep, but he could hold out a little bit longer, if Kensi needed it. Coming down from an undercover always messed him up a little, but for once he felt like he was back in his own skin. He knew who he really was, because Kensi knew who he really was.

She hadn't moved. He sat on the couch next to her, pulling her into a loose hug. "So, what did I miss while I was gone?"

She glared at him. "You were gone for a long time. You said it would only be a month."

"I know." He did his best to look apologetic. "I'm sorry. You didn't replace me, did you?"

Kensi snorted. "Callen brought Renko in to be my partner. Renko is okay. I've known him for awhile. Back when Callen trained me, we worked with him more. But he isn't you."

Deeks couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face. "Nope. I'm special."

Kensi reached out for his hand to begin tracing feather-light patterns on the back. He flipped it over and she continued on his palm. "It didn't work."

"What didn't work?"

"Callen thought if I worked with Renko, things would get better. And it did, for a little while. But by the third month he gave up and benched me."

"Callen _benched_ you? Why? What happened?"

"I don't know. I don't want to talk about it."

Deeks almost burst with questions, but he managed to hold them down. They could wait. "I'm sorry I was gone so long, Kens. I didn't really have a choice."

"I know."

They sat in silence. Deeks laid down on the couch, dragging his partner with him. He was surprised when she followed without protest, settling easily on his chest. "Then what happened?"

"I did a lot of paperwork. Nell and Eric have been teaching me how to hack. I took a couple courses. And I started calling LAPD."

"Why in the world would you call LAPD? I wasn't there."

"I know," she sighed, "but I wanted to be the first person to know you were back. So I called every day to see if there was any news."

"Every day? Jesus no wonder they told you I died."

"It's not my fault! If you'd just come home when you were supposed to, none of this would have happened. You _left_ us, Deeks. You – you left me."

He wrapped his arms around her, daring to press his lips against her hair. Her arms went around him. "I never meant to leave you, Princess. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Next time, I'll find some way to contact you. I promise."

"No, Deeks, you don't understand!" She pulled back and raised herself up on her elbows to look down at him. "I can't do this anymore. You can't go undercover. That, or you figure out how to convince your boss that I can go with you."

"Kensi you know that's not –"

"Listen to me! It's your choice. Either you take me with you, or you have to stop. No more. I've had enough. We're partners, Deeks. Partners."

"I can't just tell Bates I'm taking you on every operation. Some situations aren't right for a woman. You know that."

"Then quit LAPD. I know you love it but being an agent is good too. Join NCIS. I'll find the application. I'm sure Hetty would find a way to smooth things over and get you through super fast."

Deeks stayed silent. He thought about the envelope locked up in his desk. Hetty could do more than smooth things over. But Kensi didn't know about that.

Eventually, she sighed and settled back on top of him. "It's alright. I get it. It's not my place to make those kinds of demands. I'm sorry."

He stroked her soft hair. "I promise I will not leave you, Kensi. We'll figure something out." She murmured something quietly in to his chest. "What was that?"

"I missed you."

"I know."

"Alright that's it! I know you miss him, Kensi, but we all do. It's been a week – you _have_ to get out of this house!" Sam strode into the living room and stopped dead, faced with two guns pointed at him. He barely registered the weapons. "Deeks?"

"Was that really necessary, Sam?" Deeks groaned. "I didn't get back until three in the morning and your voice is loud enough to wake the dead."

"Apparently it is," said Callen, following his partner into the room. "Well isn't this cozy."

Kensi pushed herself off of Deeks and stood, determined not to blush. "Deeks isn't dead."

"We can see that. How exactly did that happen?" Callen asked. Sam didn't wait for an answer. He pulled Deeks off the couch and swept him into a quick hug before dropping him again.

"Good to see you, man. You look pretty good for a guy who's been dead for a week."

"Next time I die, wait until I start haunting you to believe it."

Callen stepped forward to shake his hand. "Hetty will want to hear the good news. Nell and Eric too." He looked at Kensi. "Better call Renko too and tell him he's off the hook." Kensi nodded and slipped out to make the calls. The agents turned back to Deeks.

"Alright, what the hell happened?"

Deeks shrugged. "My best guess is that Kensi accidentally triggered some kind of protocol. She called asking specifically about me every day. Since I was undercover, someone might have decided that she was a threat and to save my cover, put through the paperwork to kill me off."

"That's some protocol you got there." Callen raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, she wouldn't have had time to call every day if someone hadn't benched her. What's the story behind that?" Deeks tried not to accuse the team leader, but he couldn't help it. Everyone knew he was overprotective of his partner.

"I didn't really have a choice after she decided to jump from the exploding building."

"And the shooting."

"Also the time she got hit by that car."

"Don't forget when she got herself kidnapped."

"Which time? The second? Or the third?"

Deeks gaped. "What the hell? I leave for a couple months and suddenly you decide to sacrifice her? Who was supposed to have her back?"

"We all had her back, Deeks. Sam, me, and even Renko. She was insane. Took crazy risks, mostly against my direct orders – and Hetty's. If I left her in the field she was going to get herself killed, and probably one of us along with her."

"Why in the world would she do that?"

"Because she trusts you to have her back. And if you're not there, neither is the trust."

Kensi walked back in. "Hetty wants us all in ops. She's pretty upset that LAPD misled us. Actually I'm pretty sure that she's upset LAPD misled _her_. Is everything alright in here?"

All three men spoke at the same time.

"Fine."

"Of course."

"Where did you get shot?"

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Here we go again. C'mon, Deeks – I'll drive you in."

He grinned and threw an arm around her shoulders. Maybe Nell would get him her hospital records, just so he could be sure she was alright. "Lead on, Fern." She punched his shoulder. "Ahh that still hurts."

"Be happy you're alive to feel it."


End file.
